Adventures in Idiocy
by KaydenStockwell
Summary: "There's something you need to know about Seth. He's an idiot." Here are the stories behind Herrick's opinion of Seth. Chapter 3 is now up.
1. Missing Manager

A/N: Herrick once said "There's something you need to know about Seth. He's an idiot." Don't get me wrong; I love Seth, I do. He's my favorite vampire… but he is a bit of an idiot. So here's to idiocy! Maybe I'll write some more of his idiotic excursions…we'll see. This takes place before the season 1 pilot.

* * *

"Idiot," said Herrick to himself in annoyance. The Funeral Parlor opened at nine o'clock _sharp. _The first appointment of the day was at nine thirty. It was now nine thirty-seven and his manager was nowhere to be found.

"Sorry, did you say something, dear?" The old lady perched on one of the antique conference chairs smiled at him expectantly.

"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Marjorie, but my manager, idiot though he is, has apparently forgotten how to tell time. I'm afraid that we'll have to reschedule your appointment." He forced his lips into a smile. "I'll show you to the door," he said, taking her frail arm gently. Seth was _never_ late and, more importantly, his appointments never started late.

Her wrinkled face had turned into one of surprise and confusion. "But wait, what about my…"

"I'll have someone call," he said in a mock comforting voice. "Your number's on file. You have a nice day, now." He practically pushed her out the door, squinting his painfully sensitive eyes as he did so. He closed the paneled glass door to B. Edwards Funeral Parlor with a loud _snap!_ and leaned back against it. The vampire groaned. "Of all the days to be late it _has_ to be the one time we have a client. Figures."

With a frustrated sigh he walked to the coat rack and grabbed his trench coat and sunglasses. "Boys," he called as he pushed his arms into the sleeves, "I'm going out. Mind the shoppe!" He finished doing up the buttons and pushed the glasses onto his face. Nevertheless, he had to squint as he stepped outside. _Goddamn sun. Why's it this bright at nine thirty in the morning?_

Stepping out into the street he hailed a passing taxi. "Take me to 45 Wells Road, Totterdown." The cab driver nodded and punched the meter. "And _step_ on it."

* * *

Ten minutes later they arrived at Seth's flat. Herrick pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and shoved it into the driver's hands. "Hey, mate! Your change!"

"Keep the meter running!" shouted Herrick. He was in a hurry. They didn't have any more clients booked but he didn't want to return and find that somebody had walked into the lobby only to be greeted by a sod with blood all over his face.

The off-duty police constable stalked into the lobby and stuffed his sunglasses into his coat pocket. He jammed his finger into the lift call button and waited impatiently for a few moments before thumbing the button again. The flat manager looked up from his newspaper at the sound of the second click and shouted "Hey, buddy! The lift's down; you're gonna have to take the stairs." He pointed at the door to Herrick's left. Without bothering to respond, the vampire shoved open the door to the stairwell and began jogging up to the fourth floor. He heard a faint, sarcastic "You're welcome!" from the lobby. _Honestly, I'm surprised Seth hasn't murdered him by now,_ thought Herrick, rolling his eyes.

He arrived on Seth's floor slightly winded. After pausing to catch his breath, the Funeral Director/copper pushed open the fire door and entered a corridor. The carpeting was peeling away from the walls, the paint was discolored and cracked, and the whole floor gave off the scent of mold. Though undetectable to humans, his increased sense of smell picked up on it immediately, causing him to choke for a second.

After growing accustomed to the stench, he pulled a sheet of note paper out of his trouser pocket and unfolded it. The number _413_ was scribbled on it. Herrick's memory for numbers (and therefore his math skills) was somewhat lacking. He looked at the nearest door and continued on. _409, 410, 411, 412 ah! Here it is! _His gloved fist knocked on the dented wood five times. He gave Seth a minute to respond and then tried again, louder. No answer.

He sighed frustratedly. "Seth! Come on, the birds are singing, the sun is shining, the Parlor is open and you _are not there_!" Still no answer. He had gone back to pounding on the door when number 412 opened with a _Bang!_

A flushed, corpulent man stuck his head out and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Oi! Ya ruddy wanker! Ya half any idea what time it tis? You'll wake half the buildin' with your bangin' and yellin'! So why don't ya jus' piss off?"

Herrick grinned to himself and put on his best 'I'm just trying to help' face. "Ah, my 'banging and yelling' seems to have woken everyone except my friend. Please, accept my apologies. You see, my good friend Seth, here, is late for work and his boss is going to murder him if he's not on time. So, do you by chance, have a key to his flat? I'd really rather not keep banging on his door, my hand is getting rather tender." He smiled hopefully as his rubbed his "injured" hand.

The man grumbled something about being the floor manager and his head disappeared from view. He returned a minute later with a key and shoved it into Herrick's hand. "Keep it. I'm goin' back ter bed." With a yawn he turned and trod back towards number 412.

"This means I can go in?"

"Yea, jus' keep it down, ya prick"

_Threshold rule avoided. Perfect. And a key; even better._ He slid it into the rusted lock and turned. The lock clicked and the door inched forward. He opened it fully with a tap of his index finger and surveyed Seth's kingdom. "How Clean is your House" would have run in terror from the flat. The paint had been peeled away in most places to reveal badly patched plaster. The carpets were mismatched and stained with what looked like a red bio-hazard. The furniture was mismatched, ranging from the 1700's to the late 1980's and in various states of disrepair. The surfaces of the coffee table and kitchen counters were littered with take away boxes from various fast food restaurants. Newspapers from the past two years were strewn across the floor and hid part of the television screen. DVDs were lying haphazardly on the floor and the sofa was completely obscured by a large lump of old socks and underwear. _And I though his desk was messy; this place is a dump! And the couch-the couch is…breathing?_

The blonde man strode across the doorway and studied the pile of laundry. "Yup. Definitely breathing." Looking around, he spotted a pair of cooking tongs on the coffee table and began removing layers of clothes. After a few tong-fulls he spotted a sock that was still attached to its owner's foot. Foregoing the tongs, he began digging with his gloved hands. Herrick managed to extract Seth from the mountain of garments and was now surrounded by a laundromat's worst nightmare. The resident's vampire, however, was still in dreamland.

Seth was still dressed in his suit (minus his shoes) though this was not unusual for him. _I don't even think he owns a pair of pajamas._ His tie was loose and there was a dry bloodstain on his collar. "At least he won't be bothering me with a hunger headache." Herrick reached and pulled one of Seth's eyelids back. The sclera was bloodshot. His suspicions were confirmed by inhaling Seth's beer breath_. _He held up his hands in a irritated mock surrender "Great, you won't be hungry but you'll sure as hell be hung over. You idiot."

He took hold of Seth's shoulders and shook him. "Seth, get up! It's time to rejoin the world of the…not living…" _That sounded better it my head._ The vampire stirred, only to make a half-hearted swipe at Herrick before attempting to return to sleep. "No, Seth, you need to get to work!" Grumbling ensued. "Fine, but you asked for it." He weaved around the mess and stepped over a pile of books to enter the kitchen. Herrick grabbed a mug lying on top of a Little Chef box and turned on the water. After some clanking water began to trickle out of the tap. Cold water in hand, he maneuvered back to the couch and promptly dumped it on Seth's slack face.

The now thoroughly drenched vampire sat bolt upright, spluttering. "Agh! What the bloody hell was that?" Herrick shoved his watch in Seth's face. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and squinted. "Ten oh three. Shit. I'm late, aren't I?"

"Just a bit," returned Herrick sarcastically. "You missed Mrs. Marjorie's appointment. Now, how many times have I told you 'No getting drunk on work nights?'?"

"But you see, there was this girl and there was no _way_ I was gonna get anywhere near her unless she was drunk! Come on, Herrick! I hadn't eaten in about a week!"

"God, you idiot! Why go through the bother of getting a girl drunk? We've got a whole room full of runaways to feed from!"

"Oh, you know those _things_ we keep in the feeding room aren't good enough. It doesn't taste nearly as good when they just sit there, like they've given up. It's the fight that makes it so worthwhile."

Herrick grabbed his arm and hauled him up. "Get dressed. _Now_." He pushed Seth into the loo and threw a clean suit in after him. (It had been the only easy thing to find in the entire flat.)

"But Herrick! My head feels like someone's thrown me through a wall. I can't work today!"

"And whose bloody fault is that? You can work and you will. Now are you going to get changed or am I going to have to do it for you?" Seth answered with the sound of a belt hitting the tiled floor.

* * *

Ten minutes later Seth stumbled out of bathroom looking the part of B. Edwards Funeral Parlor's day manager. Except for the fact that he was sporting a crippling headache. "Do I really have to go in today, Herrick? I'm knackered and my head…"

"Coat there," he pointed to the coffee table. "Shoes there," he pointed to the kitchen counter. "Aspirin here," he held out his hand. Seth snatched the pain relievers and swallowed them while retrieving his shoes. Without waiting, Herrick strode out the door and headed for the stairwell.

The moment the two vampires set foot in the lobby, the manager strode out from behind the front desk. "Oi Seth! I've had a complaint about him," he jerked his thumb in Herrick's direction. "Heard from Mr. O'Connell that he was pounding' and hollering' at your door for a good ten minutes. Want to explain why you woke up half your neighbors at this time?"

"Em, well, you see I was…"

"Shut up, Seth," said the older of the two cheerily. "It was not early; it was nearly ten on a Wednesday. If Mr. O'Connell wasn't at work then he should have been up anyways. And I was just trying to ensure that my friend here had not done something too idiotic like gotten drunk on a work night," he looked sideways at Seth who seemed to shrink.

"I don't care whether he'd gone and loped his head off with a butter knife, you was disturbing the peace."

"Well than perhaps you'd like it I went and arrested myself, Mr... Adinolfe?" replied Herrick, glancing at the shorter man's name plate.

"Yea, that'd be great, arsehole! Just get off my property! And you," he rounded on Seth. "I'm not letting you back in until you pay up! You're nearly two weeks late on your rent!"

"Herrick sighed. _This is getting old._ "Seth, are you still hungry, by chance?"

Seth smiled evilly. "I can always make room…" Herrick stepped around the now confused manager and closed the curtains to prevent a passerby from interrupting. Seth blinked and his eyes became dark circles of endless hunger. He snarled at the day manager that had been plaguing him since the day he moved in. He was going to enjoy this…

The ginger haired man yelped and turned to run, trying desperately to escape, like a cornered animal. His shoes screeched across the linoleum as he skidded for the safety of his office. Seth was faster, however. While the man was running, Seth quickly crept just behind him and when the prey turned to look for his attacker, Seth turned with him so that he was staring at the back of the manager's head. "Boo," he whispered manically. Adinolfe jumped and spun around, inches from the eager vampire. He yelled, changed direction and headed towards the stairs. Seth scampered for the desk and grabbed a paperweight. He hurled the object with startling accuracy at Mr. Adinolfe. The glass prism shattered as it impacted on the head of the doomed supervisor. With blood tricking from the numerous cuts on his scalp, he dropped to the floor, stunned.

Seth took his time approaching the inferior creature. He was smiling hysterically and humming an energetic tune. The man was crawling backwards, edging closer and closer to the door. He was whispering "No, no, please, I'm sorry!" While his pleas were growing louder, Herrick was growing concerned. Someone on the first floor was bound to hear them if the manager got any louder and Seth was clearly nowhere near finished with his tormentor. _Time to cut this session short, I think._ "Seth, enough! Stop playing with your food and get it over with already!"

The younger vampire hissed and reluctantly hurried things along. He quickened his pace and approached the cowering man. The think streams of blood pouring from his facial wounds only excited the hunter more, making the seconds until he sank his teeth in nearly unbearable. Seth roughly jerked the man's head to the right, exposing the jugular vein. He traced it with his finger. At Seth's touch the prey yelped with sheer terror. "Somebody stop him!" Adinolfe looked desperately at Herrick. "Help me!"

Seth inched his face closer to the manager's neck. He inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet, metallic scent of human blood. "Mmm, brunch." His eyes widened and as Seth pulled his face back, opened his mouth, and forced fangs deep into his neck. He didn't have a chance to scream. Herrick's eyes flickered to black for a second before he fought down the urge to join Seth. He could grab a bite when they got back.

* * *

When all was said and done, Seth was in a better slightly better mood and had succeeded in making Herrick late for his shift. The freshly fed predator wiped the blood from his mouth and at Herrick's call followed him out of the door. They taxi was still waiting by the curb and the two vampires piled in. "Take us back to the Funeral Parlor."

"Um, yea, about that. You see, this here," he held up the wad of bills that Herrick had given him earlier. "Isn't going to cover my wait time and my shift ended fifteen minutes ago. So…" Herrick stuck his hand in his pockets and grabbed five more pounds. "Uh-uh. Not enough."

"Just go. Now."

"What? You think you're going to scare me, mate? I'm a cab driver. I've been mugged four times in the last year and driven with a gun pointed at my head _twice_. You're not going to intimi…"

Herrick smiled at him, eyes black and fangs bared. "You sure about that, _mate_?"

"Okay, I'm going; I'm going!" His voice had risen an octave to Seth's amusement. Herrick's eyes and teeth returned to normal and the three spent the remainder of the trip in silence. When the driver pulled up to the curb he got out of the car, went around to the other side and opened the back door, giving a little bow as he did. Seth, still revved up from his earlier catch, flashed the driver a "toothy" smile. The man paled and practically threw himself back into the taxi. The car drove off at breakneck speed, swerving to avoid a crossing pedestrian. As soon as the yellow cab was out of site Herrick cuffed Seth around his ear. "You sadistic idiot. He's probably dialing the coppers right now. They're going to have my head when I go in, assuming, that is, that I still have one since I'm," he glanced at his watch, "over an hour late."

Seth grumbled a half-hearted apology, rubbing his head. Herrick's "blow" had caused his throbbing hangover, previously controlled by aspirin, to return with a vengeance. The duo stood at the paneled door while Herrick dug around in his pockets. There was a sign on the door that read "Gone for lunch. Back at one." "Lunch? Boss, It's only 11:30!"

Herrick paid him no mind. After continuing to search for his keys he froze. "I, um, I seem to have forgotten my keys."

Seth smirked, still rubbing his head. "Who's the idiot now?" This earned him another cuffing.


	2. The Flu

A/N: Chapter 2 is here! This is for you, BeingHumanLove, for being my first review! This takes place after the pilot but before episode 1. The House is portrayed as the normal way to take care of the flu and The Funeral Parlor is the crazy, stupid way.

Benson and the Marjories are mine, by the way. Everything else isn't. Well, maybe the broom cupboard…

* * *

**The House**

"Morning!" said George with a yawn. He flopped into a chair across from Mitchell. Mitchell grunted and sniffed loudly. George cocked his head and studied him. "What's wrong with you?" The vampire opened his mouth to respond when Annie appeared. "Good morning, monster boys! I'm making tea, you want some?"

"I do," said Mitchell in a nasally voice. Annie's forehead scrunched at the sound of his voice but she brushed it off.

"George?"

"Uhm, yea. Anyways back on topic. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he sniffed again. "Just a cold." George's mouth dropped open and he stopped cleaning his glasses. Annie stopped making the tea and turned to stare.

"What do you mean 'A cold.'? You haven't been sick since I met you. Can vampires even get colds?"

* * *

**The Funeral Parlor**

Seth emptied the contents of his coat pockets onto the sidewalk in front of the Funeral Parlor. He found some lint, a stick of chewing gum, a 'Team I don't give a hoot' pen, and a pound coin. He frowned and replaced the items. (minus the lint) He was about to knock on the paneled door when he felt something shift in his trouser pocket. He groped around until his hand clutched around the key ring. _Bingo._

He placed the bronze key in the door's lock and turned it to the right. It clicked and Seth pushed open the entry way causing the warning bell to jingle forcefully. He ambled into the reception area, past the conference table and skirted around the corner of his desk. The graying vampire removed his coat and hung it on the back of his chair. He glanced at his watch, eight fifty-seven.

Seth had been filling out paperwork for about a half hour when he paused. He peered at his watch and frowned. _Where's Herrick? He's normally here on his day off…_ The vampire got up and ventured through the Parlor. He checked the cooler and found only the body of Gaston Marjorie. He exited the room and continued past the chapel, shielding his eyes from the gigantic cross mounted on the beige wall. Next he searched the crematorium, but found no one. Seth flitted through the family room and the bathrooms and found no one but the ghoul who had haunted the Mens' room since before Herrick had acquired the place.

Upon arriving at the feeding room he paused. Feeding could be a fun pastime when in the company of others, but it could also be a deeply personal, almost sexual act when performed alone. Hoping that he wasn't interrupting anything, Seth knocked, at first quietly and then louder. The only responses were the cries of fear and rapid movements from the "Feeder fish" as Seth liked to think of them. He pushed open the heavy metal door and scanned the bloodied faces. Herrick wasn't among them so he moved on.

Having had no luck finding the off duty police officer thus far, Seth continued to the back room that doubled as the parking garage and Herrick's office. Seth sighed. The elder vampire was snoring, head down, on his desk. _Must have been doing something important to have fallen asleep here. He never does that. _

He sauntered over to Herrick's empire and smiled maliciously, giving into temptation. He blinked hard and his eyes scorched black. Seth moved his face close to Herrick's and shouted "Boo!" at the top of his lungs. The reaction was priceless. The blonde man's head shot up, nearly taking Seth's with it. Herrick, shocked out of stage four REM sleep, propelled himself backwards causing the chair to tip. He wobbled on two legs for a moment and then went crashing to the cold concrete floor. Seth, his eyes human once more, laughed heartily. "Sorry, sir, couldn't resist!" He received no response, not even an incoherent 'You idiot.'

"Uh, Herrick? You alright?" He cautiously stepped around the wide table and crouched down to Herrick's level. "Herrick?" He shook his shoulder. Bloodshot blue eyes snapped open and focused on Seth.

"You idiot." _Ah, there we go. Back to normal. Well, maybe not…_ Seth inspected the state of the vampire. He was pale (more so than usual) and sweaty. If Seth hadn't known him better he might have thought that Herrick was trying to get on the wagon.

He chuckled nervously. "You alright, Boss? You're starting to look like Mitchell."

"Ugh, I feel like shit." His voice was stuffy and when a hacking cough escaped his lips, Seth's face fell. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'll get the thermometer."

* * *

**The House**

"God, I don't even know if you're hot. You feel normal," moaned George from behind a medical mask.

"Normal for me is 90 degrees Fahrenheit." said Mitchell in a croaky voice, eyeing the mask with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Oh, well then you're burning up!" responded Annie. "That's like the equivalent of…" she paused, doing the math.

"105.2!" George supplied quickly. "He should be in a hospital. That is brain boiling high!" His muffled voice had risen an octave.

"Well it's a good thing he's already dead than, isn't it?" The vampire coughed and Annie resumed making his tea. After adding his traditional pinch of milk and bucketful of sugar she handed the steaming mug to Mitchell.

"Thanks." He gulped down the scalding liquid, hoping to offer his irritated throat some relief. After he finished the Earl Grey, Annie gently took hold of him and led him into the living room. As he fell onto the sofa she turned on the television set and popped into the kitchen. The sound of metal clanking and groaning could be heard as the ghost turned on the tap. A moment later she reappeared in front of the couch holding a towel and a steaming bucket of water. She placed the pail in front of him and put the towel over his head.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he protested weakly. His left hand moved to take off the "hat". She swatted it away.

"My gran always did this when I was ill as a kid. I hated it but it always made me feel better. Just keep breathing; your head'll clear up in a bit." She grabbed the remote and turned the TV volume up so that Mitchell could have some audio entertainment and then went back to the kitchen to make some more tea.

* * *

**The Funeral Parlor**

He squinted at the screen. "4.89? What? That can't be right."

Herrick coughed and whispered scratchily, "It's upside down, you idiot."

"Oh," Seth frowned and turned the digital screen right side up and read "98.4. That's a fever if I've ever seen one. I think I liked the other reading better." He capped the thermometer and set it on the desk. Herrick put his head back down and closed his eyes.

"Hold on a sec; I'll be right back." He quickly left the office and made another visit to the feeding room. Their reaction to him was the same as always: looks of fear and anger and, though Seth didn't see it, pity. He snarled at the nearest humans and grabbed the cleanest cot he could find.

"Seth, I'm," he sneezed and continued. "I'm fine." Seth raised an eyebrow, "Really."

"A fever that high and you should be at a doctor's office, not tucked away in a cold, damp corner. You're not fine, you're a right mess. Now get on that cot or I'll put you there." Seth grinned slightly as Herrick, defeated, clambered onto the bed. _I could get used to giving the orders 'round here._

Leaving the older vampire to get situated, Seth returned to the reception area. He turned the sign on the door to "Closed" and clicked the lock. He returned to his desk and grabbed the note card that had been setting there for nearly a month. B. Edward's Funeral Parlor's day manager shouldered the phone and murmured "0177, 572, 65…90" as he dialed. The phone rang and he waited impatiently, tapping his foot against the carpeted floor.

A quivery voice answered. "Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Marjorie? Yes? Good. Well, I'm sorry to tell you, Ma'am, but we're going to have to cancel your appointment, something…unfortunate has come up."

"Cancel? But what about my…" Seth cut her off.

"Terribly sorry. I'll have someone call." He hung up hurriedly and replaced the phone on the receiver. Seth started back towards Herrick's office and then stopped. "How the hell did we get a _real_ client anyways?"

* * *

**The House**

George pulled his jacket on, ripped the mask off and moved closer to the resident ghost. "Do you think he'll be alright if I pop out? I want to go see what the pharmacy has; see if we can get the fever down." Annie glanced through the doorway. The ailing vampire's head was still in the bucket, though his coughing had died down a bit.

"He'll be okay. I'll look after him." George bit his lip. "Go. Getting him Tylenol: good. You pacing uselessly: bad. Go." He sighed, unsure whether to be amused or annoyed, and walked out the door.

When he arrived at the Rite Aid he went straight to the back of the store and sought out the help of a pharmacist. "Hi, my friend's got a 105 degree fever. What should I give him?"

The man goggled at him. "Uh, take him to a hospital for starters?"

"Yea, hospitals and he don't mix to well."

"Well, I'd still recommend a doctor, but if he refuses to see one…" The man in the white coat trailed off and hunkered down behind the counter. He reappeared a minute later with an armful of cold and flu medicine. "Give him some Tylenol for the fever, some Zicam to help him get over it, some Vick's for the congestion, and have him take a Nyquil before bed."

George took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. _Mitchell's going to love this…_ He paid the man behind the counter and grabbed the bag of pills.

When he arrived back, Mitchell had escaped the now cool water and was nursing what seemed to be his fourth cup of tea. "Look what I got you," said George in mock excitement after replacing the surgical mask. He dumped the four bottles in front of him and waited for a sarcastic remark. None came; instead, Mitchell had grabbed the Tylenol and wrenched it open._ How does he do that? I have such a time with the child proof lids…_ He poured two pills into his hand and stuffed them in his mouth. He repeated the procedure with the Vick's and Zicam.

"Is there even a point to the instructions they put on the back?" Annie shrugged. A loud sneeze was emitted from the figure on the couch followed by two "Gesundheit's!"

* * *

**The Funeral Parlor**

Though Seth could imagine all things that he could be doing, he couldn't leave Herrick. Yes, when Mitchell had been recruited he had been hung out to dry. Yes, the man would kill him the second he got in the way and yes, the man had called Seth an idiot far too many times over the years. But he was Seth's mentor; the leader that the vampires desperately needed. But most of all, Herrick was his _friend_. An outsider would look at their relationship and an unappreciated henchman and a power hungry leader, but Herrick had always been there when Seth had needed him. So Seth would be there now when Herrick needed him. Or, rather, he would be there to hand Herrick over to the first vampire who had been a practicing doctor at some point in time.

After piling a few blankets on the shaking man, Seth returned to the reception area and prowled through his desk drawers. They were a mess and finding anything was nearly impossible. After dumping the contents of the second drawer onto the floor, he found the rolodex. He flipped through the "A"'s and half of the "B"'s until he finally came across the name of a vampire who had been a doctor in the early 20th century. _That'll work._ He dialed the number and a man answered almost instantly. "This is Donnie Benson, how may I help you?"

"Benson, it's Seth in Bristol. I'm calling on Herrick's behalf. I…" He was cut off by the Scotsman.

"William Herrick? Good Lord, I haven't heard from Willie since the forties! Well, Mr. Seth? What is it? Does he need someone to manage that Funeral Parlor I've been hearing about? Because I would be _delighted _to…"

"Actually," growled Seth in a dangerous voice, "the manager's position has been filled for the past twenty years _by me_. And all we need right now, is a doctor."

"Oh," said Benson in a dejected voice. "Well, why don't you take him to hospital? If I remember correctly, there's a hospital not too far from where that Parlor is supposed to be."

"That's true, but we do have the tiny problem of vampires not having heartbeats. You understand what I'm saying?"

"Hmm, good point. Well, give me the directions and I'll be right over."

* * *

**The House**

Since practically inhaling the cold medicine, Mitchell's fever had dropped dramatically. He now felt only slightly warmer than usual. Unfortunately for him, his voice remained a comical, nasally baritone. Annie had taken it upon herself to ask him as many questions as humanly possible. George was too busy struggling to breathe through his roaring laughter to join in.

"What was your favorite toy as a kid?"

"My wed fiwre twuck." Spat Mitchell. This sent George into another fit. Annie bit her lip, trying not to giggle.

"Favorite movie?"

"Ace Ventuwa: Pet Detective."

"Seriously? You _actually _like that one?" George grinned and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Em, favorite book?"

"How to stop your ghost woommate fwom playing 20 questions." Annie laughed and then looked affronted.

"Hey!"

"Alright, my turn!" George had finally regained control of himself. "Who' your best friend?"

"Oh, I bet it's me!"

"Yea right! I've known him longer." The folded their arms in unison and stared at the now thoroughly annoyed vampire.

"At this moment? They nodded. "My best fwiend, wight now, is…" he paused for a small fit of coughing.

"Come on; it's me, isn't it? I just know it!" said Annie, smiling condescendingly at George.

"Herrick."

"Sorry, did you say 'George' cause…Wait, _Herrick_?" They gaped at him.

"He is cuwwently the least annoying pewson I know, though Seth's a cwose second."

"Wow," said George sarcastically. "My friend's best friend is the megalomaniac who's trying to kill us. Great."

* * *

**The Funeral Parlor**

The moment that Benson arrived, Seth considered the fact that he had made a mistake, _maybe. _The twentieth century doctor was dressed like a character from out of a book. He appeared to have made no effort to blend in to the current century. Seth hoped that his medical opinions had matured more than his clothes.

"Guid morning! You must be Mr. Seth! Now, where is Willie? You know, the last time I saw him must have been '46."

He groaned. "Yea, you mentioned that over the phone. Come on, he's back here." Seth stalked towards the back, the newcomer trotting after him a moment later.

"I think that you could use a decorator," Tittered the doctor in a strong Scottish accent. "This looks like one of those fancy parking garages!" While the outdated vampire examined the Hearses, Seth hunched down to Herrick's level and tapped his shoulder.

"Boss, I've got Benson. He says you know him from the forties? Anyways, he used to be a doctor." He looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Benson! The cars aren't sick! Your patients down here!" He laughed at his own joke. Herrick didn't look nearly as amused.

"Benson," he croaked. You brought _Benson_? Oh, you idiot. There's a," he coughed again, spraying Seth's face with spittle. "There's a reason I haven't seen him for sixty years." As Seth wiped his face with his sleeve he grumbled "Would it be because of this "Willie" thing?"

William! Good to see you! How are you feeling?" Herrick looked daggers at him. "Ahh, not very well, I take." He pulled a stethoscope out of his medical bag and placed it on Herrick's chest.

"What are you doing?" exclaimed Seth. "He's dead, you twat. He hasn't had a heartbeat in ages! Do you have memory loss, or something? We talked about this on the phone!" Benson continued smiling.

"Well, I was hit with a flowerpot in, um, oh when was it? Well, sometime ago, I think. I don't really remember…" Seth understood more and more why Herrick wasn't exactly smitten with the man. "Anyhow, deep breath." Herrick answered with a gasping cough. "And out."

The doctor placed his hand against Herrick's forehead. "Human normal. Not good at all. You cold?" The ailing man nodded and an involuntary shiver racked across him, as if his body was confirming his statement. "Cough, headache, fatigue?" He nodded on all three accounts. "Well, congratulations! You have a case of Influenza." He turned to Seth. "Fetch me some blankets, my boy. Sweating it out is the best treatment I've got."

Seth stalked out of the office and opened the broom cupboard. They always had spare coats on hand as vampires were quite prone to chills. He grabbed five of the thickest ones and returned to Herrick and Benson.

The doctor grabbed the "blankets" and piled them on top of the now sweating Herrick. "Good, Willie'll be fit as a fiddle by tomorrow. Well, I'm off. Patients to see…I think… If he gets any worse, I'll get some leeches!"

Herrick was too busy clawing at the coats to notice the "doctor" leave. "Ahh ahh ah." He shook a finger at him. "Those stay one. Idiot doctor's orders. Unless you'd prefer leeches, that is?" He smirked nastily. Herrick stopped his escape attempt immediately. Getting bit by a vampire was one thing, but leeches, that was another.

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**The Next Day: The House**

"And how are my boys this morning?" asked Annie cheerfully. She darted over to the counter, grabbed three mugs and began gathering the assorted tea ingredients.

"Much better. I've already begun planning my revenge for yesterday's game of "20 Questions." Replied Mitchell without a trace of the previous day's cold.

"Hey guys. You look better." Said George as he padded into the kitchen in his pajamas.

"Here you go," Annie placed the warm mugs of tea in front of them. "So, cold's all gone?" Mitchell nodded. "Ha! I told you that steamy bucket/blanket thing worked!"

George cocked his head. "Um, actually I think it was me going to the pharmacy to get the drugs." Annie laughed and George's eyes poured acid. The two supernaturals turned to look at Mitchell for the deciding vote. He raised his hands up in mock submission

"I'm staying out of this one. You two arguing: most entertaining thing on Earth." He laughed a stereotypical villain's laugh. "Mwhahaha! My revenge has just begun!"

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**The Funeral Parlor**

Seth had spent the night in his chair behind his desk at B. Edwards Funeral Parlor. Not out of concern for Herrick, but because he had been on the phone with Mrs. Marjorie until three a.m. Apparently she did not appreciate the fact that her husband "Dear Gassy" had been sitting in their cooler for over a month. After listening to her complain for the better part of an hour he had resorted to crumpling a crisp bag by the phone.

When he woke up he felt far colder than normal, even though he had slept in his coat. He bunched the black fabric around him and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. As he pulled his pale hand away, Seth felt a something cool trickle down the side of his face. His hand journeyed upward to find a thin film of sweat. _Must've been one hell of a dre- Shit._ As he swallowed he felt sharp pain radiate from the back of his throat to his ears. He got up from the chair and scuttled for the back room. He arrived to find Herrick sitting up on the cot. He chuckled hoarsely. "Wow, you look like you feel worse than me. As Benson said 'Congratulations! You have a case of Influenza!'." Had Seth been in good health, he would have snarled at Herrick, but at the moment he didn't have the energy.

"Come on," said the blonde man, grabbing a few of the coats and getting to his feet. "You have the bed. I have some work I can do." For once Seth didn't complain at being ordered around. He practically collapsed onto the spring mattress. Herrick piled the coats onto Seth's shivering form. "You know, you really are an idiot. One, you rang _Benson,_ the worst and most primitive doctor in this hemisphere. Two, you didn't take advantage of this and take a day off. And three, you ended up sick. So, back to my point. You… are… an… _idiot_."

Seth, without opening his bloodshot eyes responded cheekily "It takes one to know one."

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One more review and I'll write another chapter. Hint: it has something to do with a Hearse.


	3. The Hearse

A/N: Ch. 3 is dedicated to hbrackett for being my second review. So this story is mostly dialogue in comparison to mostly narration. What do you think? This takes place whenever. I don't think it really matters when. **This chapter is rated M for language, you have been warned.**

Thomlin is mine; he's named after my cat. Seth and Herrick aren't mine or named after my cat.

* * *

"I know that keeping things in their place isn't exactly your strong suit, but really, how did you manage to lose a _Hearse_?"

"Um, I, well, I didn't lose it…so much as I _misplaced _it…"

"Well, it's all better now! Except for the fact that our only working Hearse is missing! That doesn't change just because you say it's out for a walk in the park!" He looked expectantly at Seth who promptly mumbled a general apology. "No, I don't want you to tell me you're sorry. I want to know exactly what happened. Where you were, what you were doing, everything. So start at the beginning." He eased himself into his chair and steepled his fingers. When Seth remained silent he raised his eyebrows and gestured for the vampire to begin.

A sigh. "I was on the way back from a pick up-"

"What pick up? We haven't had a new recruit in-"

"One month, three days," completed Seth nonchalantly.

"What, you keep a calendar?"

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" Herrick mouthed fine and he continued.

"I was on the way back from a pick up that didn't pan out-"

"Why not? What went wrong?"

"Are you writing a police report or something?" The police sergeant shook his head.

"Just curious."

"It didn't pan out because the guy woke up before I got there. Evans said he could handle it so I left. I was on my way back here when some twat in front of me hit a fucking cyclist. I mean, come on! How do you not see a fucking bicycle coming straight at you?" Herrick cleared his throat.

"Uh, right. Well, I was right behind the guy and I got stuck behind him when the ambulance and the police got there. And I, uh, I had a pretty good view. It was a bad crash, lots of blood." His eyes seared black at the memory.

"And you got hungry." Seth nodded.

"And I got hungry. I got out of the car and walked up to the officer. I told him I had an exhumed body that I needed to get to the Parlor before it decomposed."

"Do you remember his name?"

"Uh, Thomlin, I think. Why?" Herrick laughed.

"Because only someone as thick as Thomlin would believe someone had an exhumed body without any proof at all. I'll have to have a talk with him. Continue." He waved his hand.

"Thomlin moved his squad car and I drove through."

"But you didn't come back here."

"Not right away, anyways. Like I said, all the blood from the accident got me hungry so I went to the bar. I parked the car-"

"Which one?" Seth opened his mouth and cocked his head in confusion.

"Which…car? The Hearse; what other car would I be driving?"

"I've told you this a million times, but I'll repeat it. You're an idiot. I mean which_ bar _did you go to?"

"Oh. Um, what's that cop bar called? The one you refuse to go to?" Herrick laughed, astounded that they let Seth through the door.

"The Tonic."

"Well, I didn't actually buy a drink but I think that they sell more than that judging by some of those guys' swaggers." Seth received a piercing look from the man in the chair.

"After the last time you got drunk on a work night I certainly hope that you didn't buy a drink." He raised his hands in mock surrender.

"I swear! I didn't buy anything. I went to a table, chatted up a bird and got a 'Drink'."

"What about the car?"

"We went back to her place, took her car."

"And you fed in the car or at her house."

"Her flat." Herrick narrowed his eyes. Seth was starring at his shoes with a determination unlike any other. The blonde vampire's eyes widened and his face broke into a toothy grin.

"You're embarrassed."

"I am not ladged*" His face had reddened. Herrick wagged his finger at him. He was going to enjoy this.

"I'm guessing that you did a little more than just grab a 'Bite'." Seth muttered something.

"Sorry, what?"

"Maybe, but it's not important."

"To me it is," the grin was still plastered to his pale face. "You got your leg over, didn't you?" His suspicions were confirmed when Seth continued to examine his laces. "No wonder you're so mellow today. Anyways, what were we talking about?" The ruddy faced vampire latched onto the subject change eagerly.

"How I misplaced the Hearse."

"Oh, right. Carry on."

"We took her car back to her flat. It's on Fairfax, I think. We went up, she had a few more drinks and then we went to bed. When we were finished she fell asleep. I fed, didn't convert her, though. God, it was so _good._" Herrick saw the tips of his fangs extend for a second before Seth regained control and retracted them.

"Wait, so are you telling me that I have a dead copper lying in her flat just waiting to be found? You'd better have-"

"I slit her wrist to feed, don't worry. No puncture wounds, it looks like a suicide. I even left some blood." Herrick looked down at his watch: five forty-nine. He yawned.

"Okay, so we've got a bad pick-up, traffic, The Tonic, a copper's flat and then what? Did you go back to the pub?"

"I got a cab and had him take me back. I went 'round back to the parking lot and the Hearse was gone. I went in and asked around but no one had seen anything. That's when I called you."

"And I picked you up and then we came back here and now we're all caught up." Seth nodded. "Well, I'll make some calls, put out an APB. There wasn't anything in the car that could give us away, was there?"

"I don't think so."

"That's good, at least. You can go on home. I've got some calls to make and it'll be quieter if you're not here. But if I get a response, I don't care if it's three in the morning, I'm calling you and you're going to get it back here."

It was four seventeen when the phone rang. A bleary eyed vampire fumbled with the receiver and managed to press the "Speaker" button. "What?"

"You absolute fucking idiot! I just spent the past eleven hours calling every police station in the country. I've called them, the funeral homes, parking garages and nothing. Then I thought to myself 'He's a dim wit. If I were a fucking dim wit, what would I do?' And then it came to me and I called them. You know, I was hoping I was wrong, because that would mean you aren't completely brainless. You want to know where I found our Hearse?" Seth gulped.

"Erm, yes?"

"At _Randall's Tow Yard_. You parked it in a fucking copper's only spot! Now get your sleepy arse down there and pick it up!" The younger vampire banged his head on the table.

"Hey! Don't think you're getting out of this if you give yourself a concussion! You're going to go down there, pay the fine and bring it back to me! Why are you still there? Go!"

"But boss, it's like four in the morning. I can't walk! I'll get mugged! Where am I supposed to get a hundred quid anyways?"

"Yes you can, yes you will and I don't know, nor do I care! Oh, and I forgot to mention-"

"What now?"

"You are a complete, brainless, fucking, moronic idiot!"

"You know, this seems to be a habit of ours. I screw up and you call me an idiot. My therapist says it's bad for my self-esteem."

"Just GO!"

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*Ladged is a Mancunian slang word for embarrassed. Seth's actor Dylan Brown is from Manchester so I'd bet Seth is too.

Give me another review and I'll give you another chapter. Hint: George will be a big player.


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